Beating Heart
by Yvi-sama
Summary: Missing scene before Casper enters the great hall.


_Lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub._

The steady rhythm starts without preamble and keeps going. I listen with rapt attention.

LUB-dub. LUB-Dub. LUB-DUB.

There are other sounds outside the darkness, but the unrelenting hammering in my ears drowns them out. My chest burns, compressed and weighed down by an invisible giant.

This is my reward?

 _Haaaaaaaaaaaa_

Air fills my lungs to full capacity. The light is blinding, but I tip sideways before finding its source. The drop is not deep, but the ground is hard and the cold air coats my tongue with dust and my skin with goosebumps.

My vision is blurry; my head spins.

The light gets more manageable as I survey my environment.

This is my toy-room and…

Wait.

Air? Gravity? Skin?

The hand in front of my face, turning and flexing at my bidding, is not my own; how could it be? It is solid with five slender fingers; a complex construct of flesh, muscles and bones. I stare at it in awe.

Soft laughter interrupts my scrutiny. The red angel tilts her head and lifts a delicate eyebrow; her smirk leaves no doubt she is Kat's mom.

Kat.

Warmth raises in my cheeks as I struggle into a standing position. Balancing on two feet against gravity is more difficult than I remember.

"Hello Casper,"

I need a moment to find my voice. It is raspy from disuse and unfamiliarly deep, not in a bad way, but something I need to get used to.

"Your costume is incomplete without this." Amelia holds a saber out to me.

Costume?

Clothes have been of no concern for over a century, therefore I hadn't paid them any mind; until now. To my utmost relieve, I'm not bare, instead dressed in a loose linen shirt and dark pants tucked into leather boots.

Heh, I'm a buccaneer; whoever is up there has a nice sense of humor.

"Thank you. Well, I guess I should be on my way." I am giddy with excitement, being alive means Kat owes me a dance. The chance to hold her hand, feel the warmth of her skin… I thought the possibility lost forever.

I head towards the main part of the attic with the prop buckled to my waist, when a thought occurs to me.

I don't consider myself vain, merely curious, as I try to locate the mirror. I am stalling going downstairs, I know. I hope knowing what I look like will make it easier.

What if Kat does not like my human form?

Will she even recognize me?

What if she is too occupied with her date?

What if she is having a good time?

She promised… and yet it feels selfish to hold her to it. How can I keep her from someone with the ability to hold her hand tomorrow, next week or possibly even for the rest of his life?

What if she is not having a good time?

Oh, that's the jealousy talking again; it is new to me and I'm not very fond of the emotion. However, hiding up here will not provide me with an answer.

At least this time I have all this Vic-guy got, haven't I?

A pulse? Check.

A tan? Well… I am a _Mc_ for a reason.

A reflection?

I have reached the mirror, watching the reflections inside. They are perfect replicas of my surroundings; but not of me.

I stare at the surface until my eyes burn.

The wood frame cracks under my hands and the glass shakes.

The mirror still denies my presence.

Come on, Casper, you haven't had a reflection for so long, what does it matter?

The attempt to calm myself is useless, for the answer is "Everything".

Firm arms circle my shoulders from behind and a head rests next to mine. The image does not change.

"You are not dead, but you are not alive either. You are a ghost with a beating heart,"

My hands fall to my side and I take a deep, shaky breath. The scent of Ivory Soap reminds me of my father; a memory equally comforting and painful.

"What wrongs have I committed to deserve neither life nor rest?"

The angel strokes my hair. My bangs fall into my peripheral vision; I'm blond. The discovery means nothing now, whereas I would have been delighted only a minute ago.

"Do you regret your decision?" Amelia turns me away from the mirror, demanding my full attention.

"No. I would have felt like a murderer."

Instead of turning softer, her gaze becomes even more determined. "There are things to come; nothing happens without a reason. You will understand."

I hope she is right.

"But for tonight," her hands squeeze my shoulders before letting go, "there is a stood up girl sitting alone on the sideline of her own party. I think she needs a good friend about now."

"Stood up?" my bewilderment turns into anger, "That bloody idiot!"

My companion frowns at my wording, but nods in assent.

"Excuse me." I can barely hold myself back once the attic door is within reach, but I manage; my father raised a gentleman after all. "Thank you, Mrs. Harvey. Good night."

Her ominous words keep ringing in my ears. I shove them to the back of my mind. There will be much time to ponder their meaning, but this body will only last until ten.

I will make every second count.


End file.
